Standing Guard
by Zeff N Company
Summary: FtSKM. Leonhart only ever smiled for his dogs. He obviously loved his dogs more than he would another human being. It was times like these that Cloud felt a twinge of jealousy, ridiculous as it was.


_Original Prompt: "Anon would like more chocobo goodness, camping on the prairie wilderness, sex under an open sky. Bonus points if Leon is attempting to train all 101 Dalmations in how to herd the chocobos."_

_This one took me a while to write, but I wanted to do it bad enough for it to finally yield. I think I milked the 101 thing for all it was worth; only Drifter is one of the originals._

_I'm sorry to say this, but expect to see more one-shots instead of added chapters to the series I have going. As much as I want to devote my time to them, I don't have that much as I used to thanks to my workload; in the time it takes me to write 1 chapter for any of the series, I could easily churn out three one-shots minimum (no, I'm not kidding). Still, I'll write as much as I can afford to, however inspiration hits me over the noggin. Hope you'll bear with me.  
_

* * *

The endless stretch of unnamed earth could never grow old in Cloud Strife's eyes. The young farm boy had only been out here for his second season, and constantly observing the magnificent view all about him was part of his job. He could never get enough of it, not when his attention was demanded in the smallest of details instead of the big beautiful picture. He was needed to watch every bush, every patch of tall grass, every odd tree and every strange shadow, be it night or day.

Not for predators. For prey. He was a herdsman – or, at least, one day he would be – and he knew at the very least that his prey was a lot more trouble than any predator he might face. He also knew that, while he had every reason to watch and beware, he had no true reason to run or be fearful. The herdsman he was apprenticed to would take care of him.

The man was his elder by only five years, but while Cloud had grown up on his father's farm raising crops, "Leon" Leonhart had been a herdsman all his life, and every scar on his sun-bronzed body came with a different story to tell. Compared to his own slight, growing body, and the bright yellow hair that stuck out prominently against the environment, Leon's dark mane seemed a natural camouflage, and his muscles were well-developed from seasons and seasons of riding and running and tackling adversaries much larger than he, of living it rough and living it dangerous. Next to this taller man, the boy felt drawn to him, in admiration for all that he could do, in adoration for his willingness to teach all of it.

"C'mon, Angel," he heard Leon's voice rumble by his ear, a low soft growl that made his skin tremble, "what have you got for me?"

Cloud held his tongue, refraining from any one word that would earn him a sharp clout to his head. He did his best to stay quiet, watching for any sign, anything that would tell him to either move forward or back away. And beside him, in fact almost on top of him, Leon was peering out into the plains, pale gray eyes sparkling with eagerness.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he was murmuring again, this time with a little more urgency, "come back to Daddy …"

Neither moved, but with each passing second, the quiet became more worrisome. They waited on a moment that might not come, dreading an outcome that was so much more likely.

And then Cloud heard it – a loud series of barks and howls that were getting closer and closer. Above him, Leon shifted.

"That's my girl."

And all of a sudden, a giant shadowed blur erupted from behind a small hill and charged toward them at full speed. There, flanking it from either side, was a pack of dogs in a blurred streak of black and white, and they were barking and growling and snapping with fervor, driving their quarry forward while steering clear of its dangerous talons.

Leon moved then, pushing off from the ground and rising steadily. His eyes studied the approaching creature with focus, picking out little telltale signs for his next move. He whistled once, a sharp, high-pitched sound that pierced through the air. Heeding him, the leader of the pack barked authoritatively at the others. Immediately the dogs picked up a sudden burst of speed. The ones on the left dashed behind and the ones on the right zipped in front, and the air was filled with a terrific chorus of barking.

Taken by surprise, upset and distressed by the noise as much as the pack, the red chocobo reared backwards with a loud squawk. Dirt rose from the earth in clumps and clouds as the talons struck in blind desperation for a foothold. Avoiding chunks of earth, the pack of thirty Dalmatians tightened the circle, harassing the bird just a little more. One ill-placed step would be all the bird needed to crush bones to powder under its feet, and still the pack moved with purpose. The bird shrieked at them in weary anger, and they growled back.

The bird started to turn for escape, and something flew at its feet, snagging and winding, until a length of rope weighted on both ends with iron bits fully wrapped about its legs. Dogs scattered quickly as the chocobo fell clumsily to the earth, thrashing and squawking. Leon ran forward, Cloud following a few steps behind.

"Back up!" the herdsman shouted at his dogs. "Back up!"

The leader barked again, and the pack scattered even more, clearing a wide berth from the thrashing bird. All except for one – a young, heavily patched male defiantly stood his ground, his teeth bared in a savage growl before his fallen adversary in blatant disregard for the danger.

"Damn it, Zack,_"_ Leon growled irritably. The pack leader was in agreement, and the older female turned on the youngster with a reproachful snap at his ear. The patched male growled angrily in retort before allowing her to chase him to safety.

For a while, no one approached the chocobo, all eyes on it as it wriggled and struggled to free itself. The rope creaked as powerful legs strained to break it, but the bolas held fast. The chocobo shuddered, its squawking ringing through the air. As men and dogs watched, circling carefully to always keep moving, the struggles started to slow as they sapped the bird's strength. It wasn't until, at last, the bird flopped back down in sheer exhaustion, when Cloud started to step forward. A hard iron grip on his upper arm stopped him.

"Not yet," Leon informed him. "Remember?"

Cloud felt his ears burn as he _did_ remember, with some embarrassment. If they moved in too soon, their quarry would _really_ panic, and most definitely fight to the death. Bowing his head, he nodded and stayed put. The hand slackened but moved no further.

Rasping groans of distress escaped the bird as beady eyes glared at its captors, its tongue lolling in the dirt. The dogs were quiet now, keeping their distance, giving the bird its space, its moment of reprieve. Finally, with an exhausted wheeze, the bird relaxed even further. Its glare lost intensity and focus, as though the chocobo was suddenly aware of exactly how tired it was.

"… _Now_?" Cloud asked impatiently, his fingers twitching. Leon watched him for a moment, then released him with an exasperated huff.

"Now," he conceded.

They approached the bird slowly, their postures relaxed and passive. The chocobo groaned in protest but stayed down, the fight gone from it. The pair worked together on either side: Cloud held its legs down as Leon untangled the bolas and replaced them with a hobble; then Cloud held up its head for Leon to slip a blindfold of cloth over its eyes and a halter over its beak and neck. If he wanted to break bones or lose a limb, Leon told him he would have to wait until he had more experience. Until then, Cloud was entrusted with the important task of noticing if the chocobo started to bolt anytime.

It was what he was tasked to do: to watch, to be ready to act, to act without hesitation. He did as he was taught. Leon's life depended on it, on him.

"There," Leon announced at last, decreeing them done. They had before them one more wild chocobo ready to sell, either to a rodeo or a ranch, whichever this one lived long enough for by the end of the drive. For now, it was still exhausted and nowhere near ready to be moved yet.

Cloud knew what Leon was going to say before he said it, before he settled down next to the bird's head on the thoroughly scuffed earth.

"Go set up camp and get dinner ready."

* * *

The noise started up again when night fell, as stars littered the dark sky. This time, only two dogs were at it, but all for a different kind of quarry and objective.

A female was in heat. A male was ready for her.

From a far enough distance, Cloud watched enthralled as Chaos – a large atypical fellow with splashes of fiery red over his liver-spotted back – sauntered over to Cosmos, a show-worthy princess speckled in blue-gray who seemed half the giant's size. She had been with the other dogs minding Leon's current flock, and didn't participate in the day's hunt. Chaos had worked himself hard, and felt he was due a little something for his heroism. Nevertheless, Cosmos was fending him off with an almost obnoxious ease, and every indignant growl and snap at the huge male reminded him who exactly was in charge here. She would let him do his thing when she was good and ready, and _no,_ she was _not_ good and ready. Not yet, anyway.

Grinning as only a dog in this time of season could, Chaos kept on trying to win his lady over. Their dance went on under the stars, and it was clear that half of the female's warnings weren't truly meant. They were a test, and only the worthy could advance. Chaos was not getting every step right, but he was determined and hard to keep away. Finally, with a low woof and a wink, she was his.

Cloud watched the triumphant mount for a moment, strangely fascinated by the newly merged, misshapen silhouette as the top half started to hump over the bottom half. How they were making this work was truly beyond him, and he numbly wondered what their children would look like. As the peak of their union came and went in a chorus of gleeful howls, the blond finally turned from the moonlit sight and found instead something more easy on his eyes to look at.

Leon had not strayed far from the newly trussed chocobo's side, and with him were two dogs; the pack leader Angel was sitting up and erect as a statue at his right, her beta and mate Drifter was lounging at his left. In his hand was a small pile of berries, and he was taking in turn to feed them his dessert as he spoke softly to them. Cloud could not hear what he was saying, but he could see the gentleness in that man's actions, and that affectionate smile on his face. Leon never smiled like that for anyone – not for the children in the towns, not for the clients or their money, not for the tavern wenches and their sultry offers, not for him and all of his efforts.

Leonhart only ever smiled for his dogs. His softest touches and his kindest words were reserved only for them. He fed them first before he ever fed himself, and he cared for their safety, their health and their happiness before his own profit. He obviously loved his dogs more than he would another human being.

It was times like these that Cloud felt a twinge of jealousy, ridiculous as it was.

A soft woof of demand sounded from his side, and he turned to find a decent distraction in the form of Zack. The young male was wagging his tail hopefully, and he held out a length of rope in invitation for a game. Grinning, the blond leaned over and gladly accepted the offer.

Six months old and still very much of a puppy, Zack was already bigger than his dam and promised to send Chaos running for his money by the time he was fully grown. Both ears were decorated with notches – little badges of honor – from his many adventures and resulting reprimands. He was a daredevil, a rebel and an unrepentant deviant. He was truly a soul that was born without fear, and the countless rough spots he had barely slipped through never seemed to faze him in the slightest. It was that likeness to his self that drew Cloud to this dog, befriending him in a closeness that he felt for none of the others. If Leon ever fired him, he intended to use his savings to buy this dog and take it with him.

He was leaning backwards, his hands pulling the rope toward him. The dog had his body close to the ground and his tail was whipping back and forth faster and faster as he pulled it back. Five seconds later, it was obvious who was winning. Ten seconds later, Cloud surrendered with a groan and let go, watching as the overgrown puppy traipsed about while waving the thing around like a flag of victory. It was at that point that Angel trotted by, and Zack promptly went to her and held it out in offering with a pathetic whine. She ignored him completely and skulked away. With a pitying whimper, Zack settled down on top of Cloud's feet.

"Your mom's still mad at you," Cloud agreed.

"She should be," Leon said, coming up from behind the pack leader. "He could have got himself killed today, the stupid mutt."

"He's a real fighter, you can give him that," the blond offered.

"I won't," Leon objected. "I don't need fighters. I need hunters and herders. I need dogs that are smart enough to stay alive by backing off when the need arises. If he can't learn to fear his quarry, he can't learn from that fear. He will die bravely, but he'll die as a fool."

Zack sensed his master's disapproval, and whined imploringly for forgiveness, all the while not leaving go of his prize. Leon who loved his dogs so much softened a little, relenting enough to pet the puppy in passing. He had not even stopped, Cloud noted dully, to offer a word of comment about his own performance today.

"What's wrong with being fearless?" he muttered to the dog on his feet. He had thought himself out of the man's earshot, but soon found that he had underestimated Leon's ears.

"Everything."

* * *

The next morning, Cloud was awoken by Leon's sharp whistle. He got up quickly before he was trampled by numerous heavy paws, scrambling to hurry for his morning duties.

A short distance away from the milling flock, Leon was already tending to their latest catch. Now that the chocobo was fully rested, it was puzzled and unhappy about its current position. The next few days promised to be difficult until the bird accepted captivity and, later in, domestication. The blindfold kept the chocobo surprisingly meek, though it kept craning its head as far as its tethered halter would allow. Leon never touched it, but he kept speaking to it, to get it used to the sound of his voice. Even then, every word he said wasn't meant to soothe.

"Five hundred," he was stating dully, rehearsing the moments of sales that the chocobo was destined for. He immediately followed by a slightly drawled, "I dunno, man, this scrawny chicken don't look like a five. I'll give you two-fifty for it." Then, reverting to his first voice, "Fine, I can go to four. Four hundred and no less."

Ignoring the ramblings, Cloud went about packing their gear and saddling up his and Leon's riding chocobos. His own chocobo behaved for him, but Leon's sensed his apprehension around it and snapped at him in passing. Cloud glared at it and flipped it off. Back home on the farm, the two old chocobos that worked the fields never bit or kicked at anyone, leaving him to wonder exactly how much of Leon's skill matched his claims at taming these massive birds. All that extra caution and discouraging of fearless dogs weren't giving him much credit.

"Mind your act around that one. It's still wild," Leon warned him, all the while securing new lengths from the new chocobo's tether to both saddles. "You can't tame a wild chocobo, you know. You can only make it not as wild, then breed its chicks to be tame."

Cloud didn't say anything, only circling around to check every strap was in place.

"People think wild meat is better for you than farm-raised, gives you more courage or something like that," Leon went on – he might as well be talking to himself. "I made an exception with this one." He paused to point out the chocobo he would ride out later. "Gave me the scar on my face and the fight of my life, and still I couldn't break him. The least I could do was gain his respect. That right, Seifer?"

The chocobo performed a halfhearted headbutt to his shoulder in response. Pressing his palm to golden feathers, Leon pushed back before mounting.

"A word of advice, Cloud," he added. "If you can't respect a chocobo, it sure isn't going to respect you."

"What's that got to do with fear?" Cloud countered. He earned a condescending huff for it.

"You can't properly respect something if you don't have fear for it in any way."

It was something to think about, if the farm boy ever wanted to become a herdsman. Cloud mulled on it for a moment, then climbed into his own saddle. He had gotten hold of a little technique from his past season, but he was still clumsy compared to Leon's catlike grace.

With another whistle, Leon continued the drive. In front of him, the flock of chocobos were kept together by about three-quarters of his full, hundred-and-one-strong pack of Dalmatians. The remaining thirty flanked him on both sides, keeping an eye on their beloved master and the chocobo that tottered blindly behind them.

* * *

"… You know I'm not afraid of you, right?"

Leon paused, then turned to level him with a hard stare. "Took you that long?"

"I'm just saying," Cloud insisted seriously, "I respect you. Honestly, I do. But I'm not afraid of you. You never gave me a reason to be afraid of you."

"You know I can fire you, right?"

"… Okay, there's that," he conceded, "but it's more of a worry than an actual fear."

Leon snorted and turned away again. "Pick up the slack, or I'll make that a reality."

"But–"

"You don't understand yet," the herdsman cut him off, "because you have no idea what to look for. You're still too young. And you'll stay too young until you learn to see it for yourself."

Offended, Cloud straightened in the saddle as he glared irritably at the older man. "It's only four years between you and me."

"You could be the older one, and you'd still be clueless," Leon replied simply. He suddenly pulled both their rides to a halt and dismounted. "Think about it some more. Meantime, the animals could use some water."

Cloud ground his teeth in annoyance, but dismounted as well. "Yes, sir."

Leon was already whistling to his pack, calling out about the river that was just up ahead. Drifter directed the flock herders to it, and then they backed off to let the chocobos drink their fill. The remaining thirty lingered around the tethered chocobo, waiting for their own command to go drink.

The chocobo, on the other hand, was far from patient. It had regained most of its strength, and was increasingly dissatisfied with its position by the second. It squawked and clawed up the ground beneath it, strutting crankily in the small amount of space it was allowed. It sensed Cloud approaching, and starting straining against the tether with enough power to make the ropes creak. The blond paused, suddenly uncertain of what to do next without alarming the wild bird further.

"Leon," he called tentatively, "something's wrong with this guy."

"Back off a little, but keep your eye on it," Leon called back. "I'll be right over to take a look."

Heeding the advice, Cloud took a careful step back.

And then with a loud angry bray, the bird suddenly reared backwards and snapped the tether inches from its knot.

"_Whoa!_"

Leon turned sharply at the cry, and then he was running toward them while shouting, "Cloud! Get away from there!"

But the boy was frozen in place, staring at the wild, magnificent bird as it whirled about blindly, trying to shake the blindfold off and failing. Angel was barking at the hunters, and they were backing up to give the chocobo its space to fume. The two riding chocobos had already wisely headed toward the flock for safety.

"Cloud, I said _move!_"

Cloud was aware that his mouth was dry with terror, and somewhere in his brain a voice was screaming at him to get out of there quickly, but his body was paralyzed, unmoving no matter how much he wanted it to. The furious red devil before him snorted, smelling him out and hating him down to its core. It found him by his scent, turned on him, then reared upward and spread out its wings in an aggressive display. Trenches were getting deeper into the earth as its talons clawed and scraped in preparation.

A blur of gray flew between chocobo and boy, and Cloud found himself staring at Zack's back. The dog growled angrily at the bird, his posture rigid in full readiness to do battle.

"Zack, _what are you doing?_" Leon was shouting. "Zack, back up! _Back up!_"

The dog defiantly planted his feet into the ground, daring the bird to take another step forward. Angel was barking at the stubborn pup, demanding him to obey as well. Cloud felt himself start to respond, to remember how his body worked, to let adrenaline take hold of him and let him reach toward the growling dog. Something irrational within him told him to at least save the dog if he couldn't save himself.

And then he ran out of time as the chocobo flew at them.

"_NO!_"

The world seemed to disappear around him for a moment. He could just barely hear a terrible yelp from his side, and then a force hit him square in his chest, lifting him from the ground for a brief second before he hit the dirt again in the small of his back, sending a spike of pain through it that throbbed in complaint. The chocobo's shrieking and braying rang in his ears over and over, getting softer and softer by the second. Whatever had hit him was now on top of him, and he could barely hear what sounded like panting, what felt like hot breath splash across his face.

"Damn it …" he heard someone mutter over him in a choked sob, "damn it …"

The world came back, his vision cleared, and he found himself staring up into Leon's brittle pale grays. The man was still sucking in as much air as he could, still straddling him as his chest heaved. There was no sign of the red chocobo, save for the tracks through the dirt it had left in its mad escape. There was something just out of reach from his left hand, and he could just make out black and white and red.

"… Zack …?"

Even from where he was, he could smell a perforated bowel, he could see the depressions in the dog's chest that meant his ribs were not only broken but crushed, and the heart and lungs those ribs were meant to guard had been crushed as well. He hoped it was a quick death.

Then Cloud remembered himself. He remembered, vaguely, to test if all of him was still there and working. Apart from the still lingering, muted throb in his back, he seemed alright. And Leon, still on top of him, did not look like he was hurt either.

But he had lost a dog.

Leon had only seconds to choose between a farm boy and his dog, and he had sacrificed his dog.

Cloud felt himself go numb again, unable to even get words pass his dry throat. Leon was looking at him … no, he was looking through him.

"… A chocobo I can replace," the herdsman muttered between pants. "… a dog … I can replace …"

Then the pale grays sharpened, focusing on him once more. A hand was in his shirt, shaking him in demand for absolute attention.

"When I tell you to move, you _move_," Leon growled at him. "_Never_ freeze like that again. Do you understand?"

Unable to trust himself to speak, Cloud managed to nod. Satisfied, Leon let go of him and pushed stiffly off the ground. The herdsman never made it into a standing position, and instead sat down beside him, his entire frame shuddering for every breath as he stared through glassy eyes at his dog.

"Damn it … Zack …" he heard Leon whisper, and then he heard that choked sob again before a hand came up for the man to hide his face. "… damn it …"

* * *

Little time was spared to bury the dog, deep enough into the ground to deter opportunistic scavengers from digging the body back up again. They had the rest of the flock to worry about – they were already timing it close, and they no longer had their latest catch to validate the delay.

A dog's grief was short-lived. Angel mourned her puppy for a little while, and then returned to her job; she was still young enough, and she would one day have another one. Leon, on the other hand, was as silent and sullen as the first day Cloud had met him, as though it was taking him every ounce of his will to hold together.

Cloud lingered over the pile of earth in the ground, staring down at where his friend was laid to rest. He knew, truthfully, that even if he had not froze, Zack would have went for the chocobo anyway. It still did not stop him from feeling guilt over the loss.

That could have been him lying under the dirt. That could have been someone else.

That could have been Leon.

Staring at the earth, Cloud felt fear for the first time; not of the man he trusted, but for him. The day's events reminded him that he was living a life of danger more than glory, that at any point something unexpected could happen. Something could always get hurt. Someone could always die. And he knew in his heart that Leon was ready to toss his own life aside before letting Cloud's slip from his grasp.

He turned back to where the man stood by his saddle, not mounting yet, not while his mind was still weighed so heavily. A distracted mind would not be alert enough to watch for danger; a distracted mind could lead to one more death.

Cloud found that he, at last, understood that. He came up to his side, and his hand started to reach up. He had thought, for a brief moment, to at least give him a pat on the shoulder, to reassure him that he was doing his job alright, that they were both alive and they could always get that chocobo again some other time. Then he stopped himself and withdrew. It suddenly seemed inappropriate.

"We should get going," he said instead. Leon seemed to wake up then, and he nodded grimly before mounting his chocobo with the same even grace he always possessed. The focus was back in him, and that would be enough. For now. Cloud clambered back atop his own ride and, with a sharp whistle, the procession moved onward.

Cloud feared for the impending future where, one day, he would lose Leon. He feared for the day that one careless mistake would force him to strike out on his own, without that trustworthy man watching over him and guarding his back.

That was fine. He could respect that.

And he would be damned if he didn't give everything he had to prevent it happening on his watch.

_

* * *

As usual, I advertise: __If there is something you'd like to see happen in FFNet for Squall/Leon x Cloud, drop on by the Strifehart Kink Meme ( http : / community. livejournal. com/ cleonrp/ 2723. html ). My fellow writers and myself would love to get our paws into it. _


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